Skeleton In The Closet
by ruinedsandwich
Summary: Every family has skeletons in their closet, no matter how perfect, no matter how normal they may claim to be. Unfortunately, the Dursleys took this to the utmost literal sense. Hidden away in a cupboard under the stairs, lay young Harry Potter, Saviour of the wizarding world, The-Boy-Who-Lived, the freak under the stairs. The skeleton in the closet.


Every family has skeletons in their closet, no matter how perfect, no matter how normal they may claim to be. Every family has skeletons in their closets. Unfortunately, the Dursleys took this to the utmost literal sense. Hidden away in a cupboard under the stairs, lay young Harry Potter, Saviour of the wizarding world, The-Boy-Who-Lived, the freak under the stairs. The skeleton in the closet.

* * *

Harry didn't think he was abused, after all this was the type of behaviour people were supposed to act around freaks like him. It was normal, a perfectly acceptable response to beings such as Harry.

But still—he couldn't help but notice how different other parents treated their own children. Of course, Harry didn't have parents to compare with, he had an aunt and an uncle, and god forbid if they ever found him proclaiming them as _his_ parents. Harry stared curiously at the families in front of him, school having just ended, and wondered just what separated the other children from himself. He watched as a mother cooed at her young son, eyes bright, as if the small chattering child were her whole world. He probably was. Harry's brows scrunched into a frown. Maybe he wasn't loud enough? He noticed most children his age loved to chatter, whether or not if anyone was actually listening. Harry shook his head, that couldn't be it, the Dursleys absolutely hated it when he made as much as a sound, 'not a peep out of you, boy!' Uncle Vernon would shout, Harry idly pictured his moustache quivering.

Lost in his thoughts, Harry startled when a hand settled on his shoulder. It was the mother he was previously observing, her lips was pulled into a soft smile, brown eyes gentle. Oh no.

Reaching over to ruffle his hair, Harry held back a flinch, the mother murmured softly, "What's your name dear?"

There was a pregnant pause, just when she was about to repeat the question there was a soft lilting voice, barely a whisper, she had to strain just to hear. "... I'm Harry, Harry Potter." The little boy smiled uncertain, no one ever asked for Harry's name before, he latched onto the opportunity. Unable to stop the tinge of pride that seeped into his voice—however quiet it may be. Harry loved his name. It proved that he had an identity. That he wasn't just 'boy'. That he wasn't named 'freak'. He was Harry. Just Harry. And that was enough for him. Harry hadn't even known his name before school.

He recalled standing in a small colourful classroom, the teacher— was calling out names, they were to sit down on the floor once their names were called. Harry remembered the teacher calling out 'Harry Potter,' had glanced up, eyes flicking through the crowd of small children, when it was clear no one would step up and claim the moniker, she muttered under her breath, "_there's always someone," _he watched her shake her head, marking the name off as absent, then continued down the list. He ended up being the last one standing, he didn't know his name. had looked at him in confusion, her brows knitted. She looked back down the attendance list, previously clouded eyes lighting up in realization, "_Ah yes! Harry Potter," _she waved a hand in a downwards motion, "_quickly now, sit, sit."_ she told the newly dubbed Harry absentmindedly briskly erasing her previous slip up and scrawled down the correction.

"You seem a little dazed there kiddo, where's your parents?" a voice broke through the memory, it was the mother, her expression was filled with concern… For him_._

_Oh no._

A warmth bloomed in his chest, taking his breath away. He never wanted to lose this feeling. His attention was turned towards a tuft of brown hair peeking out from behind the kind woman's crouched form, her son. Curious chocolate eyes met emerald, both unwilling to look away. Their impromptu staring contest was broken by a nasally voice.

"Ah, I apologize miss, are you new here? Welcome to Little Whinging!" A portly woman meandered towards the trio, dragging a boy, her child most likely, in tow.

"Miranda Polkiss, this here is my son, Piers," The woman gestured towards the skinny boy by her side, a smile plastered on her painted lips.

"Candice Moore," She replied standing back up, "a pleasure to meet you, ." The woman, now identified as Candice, smiled brightly.

"This is my son Lorcan," Candice beamed, holding her son's shoulder. Harry shifted uncomfortably, he should go now. His eyes darted towards Piers, he knew him as Dudley's friend(minion), and Dudley's friends, including Dudley himself, saw him as a target.

, noticing the movement momentarily froze. Harry discreetly wiped his sweaty palms off his ill fitted trousers, as beady eyes drilled a hole into his own. A cold sweat broke out onto his forehead, he knew aunt Petunia loved to spread rumors about him with the neighborhood ladies, clearly she knew about him. hastily pulled herself together, her smile now obviously strained.

"Could I have a word with you deary?" Mrs. Polkiss tittered fakely, tilting her head away from their location.

Mrs. Moore nodded, although clearly puzzled. Glancing towards her own son by her side, she pushed him towards Harry and Piers.

"Come now Lorcan, go play with Harry and Piers while mummy talks," she shooed him, walking away with Mrs. Polkiss. They didn't go too far though, if Harry strained enough, he could still hear bits of their conversation, albeit a bit muffled by the chattering environment around them.

"_..a strange boy, that one.." _ murmured, shooting glances towards the bespectacled child, eyeing his unruly raven hair in distaste.

Harry winced, his already poor posture hunched further inwards.

"_...delinquent… stay away…"_

Harry felt as if he were physically struck by her words, his head bowed in silent resignation.

He shouldn't have hoped, Harry blinked furiously, eyes burning. Piers glanced at him mildly uncomfortable, "_freak." _Muttered under his breath.

"_... The Dursleys- bless their souls, took the boy in…parents drunkards…"_

Something snapped in Harry. It rushed in his veins, igniting, fiery, all consuming feeling. He was drowning in it. All of Harry's anger directed towards one goal, to give pain.

"_... honestly troubling how he-" _Mrs. Polkiss stopped, her eyes flickered to his from the distance, holding his gaze. She couldn't breath. Something was squeezing, and squeezing and _squeezing. _Now, if Mrs. Polkiss felt like describing the feeling later on she would have said It didn't feel physical persay, it felt almost as if her very soul was being gripped. She held Harry's gaze. It felt unnatural.

By now the whole conversation stopped, the previously bustling school yard was eerily silent with only a few stray children and parents sticking around.

"Mrs. Polkiss? , shall we s—" Mrs. Moore began, wondering the cause of the lull in conversation.

A trickle of red dripped down her nose, Mrs. Polkiss was white as a sheet, completely frozen.

"Mrs. Polkiss! Are you alright?" Mrs. Moore said alarmed as she grabbed the other woman's arm, steadying her. Her cry caught the attention of the stragglers, people were starting to walk towards them.

"Mrs. Polkiss? Can you hear m—" A loud shrill scream broke through the silence, Mrs. Polkiss had dropped to the ground writhing.

"Mum!" Piers cried, sprinting towards the women, clutching his mother.

All throughout her screams Mrs. Polkiss never broke her gaze with Harry.

"Mum? Mummy!" Piers shouted tugging at Mrs. Polkiss once more, his eyes wide and confused. No response. Piers shook, distress clear on his features.

Harry blinked, his hot anger previously fueling him was doused by reality. Mrs. Polkiss stopped moving. By now a crowd had gathered and were calling for help. Harry looked up to see Mrs. Moore staring at him from the crowd.

"Mummy?" Piers whispered, a woman had pulled him away, the sound of sirens in the distance.

A mixture of fear, confusion, and lingering anger churned in his stomach creating a whole new level of anxiety. He wanted to just wake up in his cupboard. The dark cramped space brought him comfort. Dark meant hidden, and hidden meant Harry was safe.

"Harry?" A hesitant voice spoke, Harry twitched. His gaze directed to the previously forgotten boy next to him.

"Are you alright?" The surprisingly quiet boy asked with as much confidence 9 year olds were capable of.

"Are you—" "Lorcan." A stiff voice interrupted.

"Lorcan, come here." Both boys turned toward the voice.

"Mum?" Lorcan started

"Now Lorcan." Mrs. Moore didn't look at him, her eyes were on Harry.

Lorcan quickly scurried to his mothers side wary, his eyes shifted towards Harry. Mrs. Moore grabbed his hand and began walking away.

"See ya later Harry!" Lorcan called out behind him waving. Harry plastered a smile on his face, waving back. He won't. They wouldn't let him.

"_Stay away from him…"_

"Mummy, what's wrong?"

The gleam of fear creeping in the edges of her eyes. He saw it. Like children were familiar with a mother's embrace, he knew these eyes intimately. He saw it everyday in his aunt's eyes. The expression was a familiar image, liken to a mother's hug. She knew.

—

The medics had taken Mrs. Polkiss and her son to the hospital. And in the flurry no one noticed the young Harry Potter slip away.

News spreads quickly in little Whinging, especially if it involves Mrs. Polkiss and her precious son being taken away to the hospital. Rumors will spread, but the Dursleys would know exactly what or who to blame for this incident.

Harry dreaded his return home.

Harry wasn't given food that day, and the day after that. The Dursleys made sure of it.

They even went as far as taking him out of school for a couple days to let the gossip die off. When Harry finally returned to school, hungry and exhausted, Lorcan was nowhere to be found. Later, Harry found that they had written the incident off as a case of seizures, Mrs. Dursley made sure to cement that rumor to her housewives circle, all the while still managing to praise her precious Dudders— you had to give the woman some credit.

Harry knew from a young age that he was different. Different from the children living in Little Whinging, perhaps even different from the children outside of Little Whinging. Harry knew what he was, he was stain on their picture perfect world. An ugly mark, something foul you find under your shoe. He knew he was unwanted. He knew that very well. They made sure of it. A snide remark, the disdain in their eyes. They showed him their thoughts in many ways.

Harry was fine though, he thought to himself in the darkness of his cupboard. He knew what he was and he accepted it. At least that's what he tried to convince himself. Harry ran his hand through the side of his head, pushing his hair back, if only momentarily before it went back to its natural state. It was pointless to try and fix it but it comforted him nonetheless.

—

The next day, was as ordinary as the last, Harry tried to stay as late as he could before returning home. He indulged himself in his newly dubbed "people watching" hobby he cultivated, making sure no adult would notice him this time. Unfortunately, Harry didn't take the children into account. A lesson learned, but really who forgets about children in a school?

"Oy Potty!" A familiar voice startled Harry enough to jump. It was of course Dudley and his posse. They were laughing.

"Did you see him jump?" a boy behind Dudley laughed, it was Piers. The last week hadn't been nice for Piers, and unfortunately this lead to him to be less nice to others in turn, not that he was nice in the first place. His mean streak was particularly targeted at Harry of course. Harry wondered if he knew.

"What're you doin here eh Potty?" The boy continued, egged on by his jeering friends. The little nickname honestly would have been quite devastating if Harry had been a normal little boy; he wasn't. Harry definitely wasn't bothered, really, it didn't stop him from tensing however.

"Must've been scurrying around like the Potty that he is," Dudley crowed joining in. That one didn't even make sense. Harry wasn't bothered, really, he was just gritting his teeth for fun.

"Potty must have been crying out for his mummy to come pick him up!" Piers mocked, his friends joining him in his laugher.

"You would know a lot about that wouldn't you Piers," Harry bit out, okay maybe he was a little bit bothered.

Piers stopped his expression darkened, faster than Harry ever expected him to move he grabbed Harry's collar. He could feel his toes brushing the ground, his shirt bunching uncomfortably at his neck. The children were silent.

"Say that again Potter." Piers said. Now, while Harry wasn't terribly large, the fact that Piers could lift him up easily explained why Dudley kept Piers around besides the abundance of toys Piers had.

"You heard me" Harry licked his lips, his throat suddenly very dry, where did this bravery come from. Bravery or stupidity Harry mused. He didn't see it coming but he certainly felt it. The unexpected blow left Harry breathless, he felt his body drop to the ground. Dirt was kicked in his face.

"At least I have a mother, _Potty" _Piers sneered. Dudley who was watching all this clapped Piers on the back, his beady eyes staring at Harry was wary.

"Let's go Piers, mum told me Potty was 'dirty and shouldn't be bothered with' or something," at this Piers huffed but nodded at Dudley, his posse started walking away, leaving Harry on the ground.

Harry lifted himself up, wincing, really he deserved this. He watched as the crowd became thinner as time went by, all the while ignoring the little boy leaning against a tree.

No, Harry thought bitterly as he watched the rest of the families leave the school, He wasn't abused. He was just alone.

* * *

X

* * *

**A/N:** Gucci gang my dudes. This my first official story for the harry potter series haha. I've been sitting on this story for a while now, I have a lot of random shit in the draft pile but this one was the most developed. Uh kinda. This was a intro to Harry's life, I felt that I was laying it on thicc but imma be _that_ author and fuck around with harry.

Will this be ROMANCE? Yeah well I want it to be, I never wrote any romance before but dont worry it wont be all romance, i think, probably, yes.

It will be more than likely to be HP/VL so if you don't like it, as much as it'll hurt my fragile lil heart please leave. Honestly though im pretty sure I labeled this.

This is unbeta'd so if you see any mistakes then haha. If you'd like to beta this story then gosh by all means DM me

Gucci gang out -R. Sandwich


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